


Maybe I Will...

by BlueLights



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:42:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLights/pseuds/BlueLights
Summary: A lazy Sunday afternoon brings on a conversation about past, present and future.





	Maybe I Will...

« Emily… »

The deep, pained tone of a voice usually so gentle, warm and caring, had the young woman raising her eyes from her book, a confused frown marring her features.

She takes the time to take him in, the way the light reflects on his hair, giving it a slight blueish hue, a contrast to his jet black hair. His eyes are burning through her, red, as if he had been crying. She hadn’t heard him entering the room, and she almost never does, his training still very much ingrained into his behaviour.

She stands still, observes him for a moment while he remains silent, before putting the book down on the table next to the windowsill and uncurling from her - very comfortable - reading position, sitting down and tapping the cushion next to her. There is almost no space left, and she knows that, with his imposing frame, they’ll be pressed flush together. Her eyes fixed on him, she waits for her lover to come closer and take a seat, watching his body tense up and relaxing in turn, the nightmare that woke him from his unplanned nap still clinging to the edge of his mind, still not trusting himself - more exactly, his other self - to be so close to her right now.

She sighs, letting her head rest against the window behind her, takes a deep breath, before standing up, slowly walking towards Bucky, eyes fixed on his blue irises.

As she reaches him she bends around and behind him, closing the door behind him, the action pressing her chest flush against his.

Emily can see and feel the exact moment his resolve crumbles, as his arms come around her, and his body slightly leans on her in a hug, his chin coming to rest on top of her head. She takes the time to breathe him in, the smell of him mixed with his aftershave making her smile.  
Both of them feel the tension slowly leaving his body with each breath he takes.

« Feeling better ? »

He nods, silently answering the question. The two stand there for a little longer, revelling in the other’s comforting presence.

Suddenly, she remembers a conversation, a few months prior. He had told her about his contingency plan, just in case Hydra turned to not be so out of business as he thought… Of all the ways they could drop off the radar and start over, all the places they could go, before maybe getting a dog when the heat would die down, and a nice house in the countryside with a few spare rooms they would fill, in time… all the things Emily thought she wanted… Before.

« You remember what you told me, a few weeks ago ? About travelling, settling down, having a family… »

Again, he silently nods, a light squeezing of his arms around the brunette prompting her to keep going.

« Why can’t we do it ? »  
« You know why » he says, his voice raspy and barely more than a whisper.   
« No. I really don’t »  
« Emily… you know why »

The young woman raises her head towards him, only to find him staring intently at her.

« Damn the Accords. We’re here. We’re safe. You made it through WW2, Zola’s experimentation, falling off a train in the Alps, 70 years of torture, pain, mistreatment, cryo, being repeatedly wiped by Hydra… And through it all, in spite of all odds, you’re here. You are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor, a good man from 1940’s Brooklyn, and you are here. If you want us to travel, we’ll travel. If you want us to settle down, we will. If you want a house on a lake, a truck and a dog running in the backyard with half a dozen kids, we will pack up and drive until we find this place. Just say the words, darling, and it’s yours. »

His smile warms up, and for a fleeting instant the world seems to stop, and they’re the only two people on Earth. I never want him to stop smiling, Emily thinks, and the sheer joy that he exudes fills up the room.

« What did I ever do to deserve you ? » he says, looking at the smaller woman as if she had hung the moon.  
« I have no idea, but I feel like I’m the one who should ask this, here »  
« Nah » he chuckles, before pulling her back flush against his chest, and she can feel the rumbling of his voice as he speaks.  
« I’m the lucky one here, I have a sexy, smart, kind, and incredibly good cook of a woman by my side… »   
« And don’t forget 71 years younger… »  
« And 71 years younger… Damn, you make me sound like a creepy old lecher, doll… »  
« Hmmm, but you’re MY creepy old lecher, sergeant… And I wouldn’t trade you for anything… Beside, you make the best breakfast foods, and where would I be able to find a man who takes me out dancing like you do, hm ? They don’t make them like you anymore, you know. »  
« You could always run away with Steve »

She laughs, dismissing the thought.

« Little old me, with Captain America, mister Good Guy ? Honey, believe me, I like Steve well enough as a friend - hell, he’s one of my best friends, even - but there is no attraction there… He is the best cuddle buddy when you’re not around, that’s for sure, but unfortunately for the star spangled man with a plan, it seems I have a thing for brooding brunettes with a metal arm… » the brunette presses a kiss to his shoulder, where the skin meets metal, as Bucky slightly tensing up at the feel of her lips on his skin « incredibly soft hair… » she keeps going, carding her hands through his hair, gently massaging his scalp, his arms around her relaxing as he leans into her touch « and a heart of gold » she says, ending her sentence by pressing a kiss on in t-shirt, right over his heart.

« I love you » he says in a whisper, his wife’s declaration the reassurance he needed, and a little taken aback by her feelings. Then again, he always seems surprised when she tells him she loves him, half expecting her to up and leave telling him she could never be with a murderer, or that his past was too much for her to handle.

« Bucky »  
« Hm ? »  
« I love you too, you know »  
« I know, doll… I know… I just can’t quite really believe it, is all. I… I never thought you’d want to stay with me… or be with me… and even less after… »  
« I told you I wasn’t going to leave you, and I won’t. When you came back for me, just because you had a memory of me… I never expected you to. When they told me you had gone rogue and threw me in that cell… I was hoping to never see you again, because if I did it would mean that there was a chance they’d get you back »  
« I could never leave you behind »  
« I know that… Still. They had me, but you were free. I was hoping you’d stay with Steve, with the Avengers, find yourself, live your life… Back then, I didn’t… I didn’t know if you’d remember me… if you remembered who I was, what I tried to do, or if you just had a faint recollection of me as just another one of them. »

Both of them stay silent for a little while, just cherishing the closeness and warmth of their lover, fears eased by the sanctuary of each other’s arms. Emily had never really voiced them out loud to him, and every time she had thought about it, had dismissed it ; these were silly fears, and why would she burden him with something that never happened anyway ? He had enough to deal with - they both had - without adding this to the table…

They had gotten Emily at a young age, barely out of pre-school. She had been the perfect subject. No family that would miss her, she was too young to have had friends that could do anything about her sudden disappearance at this age, and the old nun running the orphanage had been more than happy to get rid of the soft spoken little brunette. She had been just another mouth to feed to the old crone, an annoying little brat that wouldn’t stay in line. They only had to give her a couple thousand dollars to ease her ‘worries’, and after a hefty envelope had been given to her, Emily had ceased to exist, every record of her erased or burnt, the only remaining proof of her existence being herself. 

She had been raised and trained by a few of Hydra’s operatives, moulded into the perfect weapon - or as perfect as she could be without the super soldier serum or any scientific experimentation having been done on her. And still, she had failed their test when it had come to it. Age seventeen, they had thrown her into the world, with only one mission : killing a journalist that had come too close to discovering a few of Hydra’s projects… and her whole family with her. 

« Make it look like a robbery gone wrong », they had said. « They wouldn’t dare turn a lost, helpless teenager out during a stormy night. Let them invite you into their home. Let them fell sorry for you. And when their guard is down… make sure no one can remember you. »

And almost everything had gone according to plan… Almost.

When the older woman had opened her door, Emily was taken aback by her kindness, something she was being shown for the first time in her short life. When the husband had offered her dry clothes, and set the couch out for her to sleep on overnight (« until your mom can come pick you up, you can stay here, alright honey ? »), remembering fondly about something similar happing to him decades ago, she wavered.. When their son, barely three, had come to sit on her lap and had demanded she read him a story, she had made her decision. She would take whatever punishment they’d give her, but she wouldn’t kill them. She couldn’t.

The house was woken up in the middle of the night by screams and gunshots, the family killed before Emily could climb the stairs and stop her handlers from finishing her mission, before they had to drag her away, covered in blood, kicking and screaming, cursing at them until everything went black.

They had died because of her, and she couldn’t have done anything to prevent it.

She had spent five days alone in the hole after that, no food or water, receiving daily beatings in their attempts to make her more docile, more compliant.

Each day ended with a question. 

Each day the answer she gave wasn’t the one they wanted to hear.

Five days alone, in the dark, the only indication of any time having passed being the sound of the steps of the guards standing outside the door whenever their shifts ended or began.  
When they had opened the door on the fifth day, and thrown Bucky in with her, Emily thought she was going to die. All of them had been told about the Winter Soldier, of course. He was the bogeyman the agents had told the recruits about when growing up, the one they would sent after you if you were a bad girl or disobeyed…

Instead of the monster they had taught her to fear, they had thrown in with the young woman a broken shell of a man, barely able to stand, eyes darting around the cell like a frightened animal.

« May I… » she had said, not really knowing what to do, before slowly approaching him, arms rigid against her side, eyes focused on him.

As soon as her hands had touched him, he had recoiled in fear, expecting the frail brunette to hurt him.

« I won’t hurt you, I promise » she had said gently, resuming her approach and backing him against a corner. He had whined, a small, high pitched, desperate whine, when he had realised he was trapped.

« Please » he had said, dropping onto the floor in a protective stance « Please… please… please… please… please… no more… please no more… please… please »

« I won’t hurt you » Emily had repeated, dropping to her knees in front of him. « I won’t hurt you… »  
« No, please… no more »

He had fallen silent as soon as Emily’s left hand had touched his right arm, the young woman’s right hand slowly pushing the matted sweaty hair back from his face to reveal a bloodied nose, a split lip, and small cuts littering his face. She dreaded to see what was under the long sleeve shirt and the sweatpants, expecting injuries far worse than these.

« Hey, it’s okay… it’s okay… » She had slowly manoeuvred herself to sit next to him, right arm finding its way around his waist, rocking side to side with him to calm him down. « It’s okay… It’s okay… »

She had fallen asleep cradling his head on her laps, hands carding through his hair in a soothing motion, something that would, unbeknownst to her at the time, become something that she would end up doing every time before they wiped him, or as soon as they woke him up, a way to anchor him to reality before subjecting him to whatever torture they had planned for him.

Enraptured in the memories of their first meeting, Emily was brought back to the present by the sound of his voice breaking the silence.

« You remember that morning, in Romania, a few weeks before they came for me ? »  
« The one where you bought so many plums at the market we only ate that for days ? »  
« Hmmm. The old lady from two doors down, the one who always smiled so kindly at us, she saw me coming back, arms full of groceries. She laughed at me, and she told me to take care of you, and that I was a good husband for buying you so many pregnancy cravings foods »  
« Oh my god… » Emily laughs into his chest, the memory of the sweet old lady, and that warm summer’s day coming back to her.  
« Yeah… but you know the weirdest part ? I never told her that you weren’t pregnant… Or that we weren’t married. I liked it, the thought of it, I mean… Us, married, a kid on the way… »

Emily tilted her head back, looking at Bucky with a soft smile.

« You know, if that’s what you want, you could just ask »

He looks at her for a second, not really knowing if she’s being sarcastic or serious, or a little bit of both. The crooked smile he gives her after is priceless, and makes her heart so full she feels like it might burst out of her chest. She sees the old Bucky looking at her through that smile.

« Maybe I will… maybe I will… »


End file.
